Midnight Snack
by SerenityFalconNormandy
Summary: Written based on the Dragon Age Reddit Pie Challenge!Prompt 1: Pies, kitchen, hot, green and red, affection When one is denied their favorite pie, sometimes drastic measures must be taken.


Fen snuck into the Skyhold kitchens, knowing that at this late hour, Cook would be asleep and would have left the pies unguarded. Wrapped feet allowed her to slip past the guards patrolling the main hall with no troubles. After the debacle at Halamshiral, she didn't care _one single_ jot if the Orlesian dignitaries Celene sent were impressed by the variety of baked goods presented during their visit or not. Briala would keep Orlais toeing the Inquisition line; Fen had given her the power to balance her relationship with the Orlesian Empress.

Also, she wanted the berry and cream pie Cook only made for special occasions. She'd worn _shoes_. Make-up. Had her hair pulled, twisted, and piled up into ridiculousness. Stuffed what assets she had into a corset and _fought_ in it! Had bloody Orlesian shems trying to _pinch_ her and _grope_ her, and she couldn't slap their hands away without Josephine flapping over and preventing 'diplomatic incidents' because they couldn't _keep their bloody hands to themselves_ with an elf. Fen paused and made a mental note to get a gift for Cullen. He'd been manhandled just as much as she had been, if not _more_ and Josephine hadn't exactly provided him any backup. In the meantime, surely she deserved _one_ pie, and despite her pleas, Cook wouldn't make an extra for her.

"Cook is a _tyrant_ ," she muttered to herself as she surveyed the rows of pies cooling on the shelves lining the side of the kitchen. _Apple, some sort of nut pie, ooo, custard! No, focus, berry and cream, berry and cream… Aha!_ Fen hissed as the pan burned her fingers, too hot to actually handle. She wasn't the best at ice magic, but a quick rime of frost on her fingers and on the pan, and she was creeping back out of the kitchen. Before she fully escaped, she noticed the frilly cakes that Solas loved.

Laid out in neat flower patterns of alternating colors on serving platters, they were lovely, the icing still glossy without the finishing powdered sugar. Looking at her pie, and the door she'd left open to the main hall, she quickly swiped a platter of red and green cakes. "Cook is a tyrant, and she's going to _murder_ me."

Maintaining a delicate balance, she pondered using her toes to pull the door closed, then decided against it. Cook was already going to be furious about the pie and cakes, if she found out the Inquisitor's feet had touched the door handle to her domain, there was no place on Thedas Fen would be safe from her wrath.

"Inquisitor?" A Starkhaven brogue came from behind her.

"Creators _fucking_ dammit!" She squeaked and jumped about a foot in the air.

Fen whirled around, nearly sending some of the cakes off the edge of the platter. The guardsmen, Brayden, snickered and pulled the kitchen door shut. He sketched a small bow to her and eyed the platter of cakes and the pie, then looked towards the rafters innocently.

"I saw _nothing_ , Fen."

"Ah, thank you, Brayden," she held the platter to him, "Cake?"

Brayden took one and took a large bite, then followed her to her chamber door, still chuckling. As he held the door open for her, Fen turned to him, "Thank you again, Brayden. Although you _may_ want to get the frosting out of your mustache before Cook wakes up."

He swiped at his bushy carrot-orange mustache and grumbled, "She's going to come after me with one of those spoons of hers, I just know it."

"Just tell her I ordered you to help me," Fen stood on tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek. He was one of the good eggs in the keep, treating her like a younger sister instead of bowing and scraping and titling her to death. "She'll come after _me_ with the wooden spoon instead."

"Goodnight, Lady Fen." Brayden stuck his tongue out after using the title as she rolled her eyes at him, then closed the chamber door. Fen skipped up the steps and carefully set her pie and the cakes on the little table that had been brought up with dinner.

Solas was in bed, the deep wine curtains at the foot parted to let in some of the heat from the fire still crackling in the grate. He was on his stomach, one arm tucked under his pillow and the other clutching her pillow to his side where she'd stuck it when she'd escaped his clutches to fetch dessert. Fen parted the curtains next to his face and knelt. She folded her arms and rested her chin on them, studying his face while he slept. There was the little scar on his forehead, the one he never explained. The grooves from wrinkling his brow while reading and pondering were relaxed into near-invisibility with sleep.

One arm slipped free, and Fen gently traced one brow. Maybe he'd grow his hair out if she asked him. Would it be the same lovely copper color of his eyebrows, or more auburn? He had a small spatter of freckles, just across the bridge of his nose and tops of his cheeks. They were darker from being dragged to every corner of Orlais and Ferelden, most recently the Western Approach and Hissing Wastes prior to Halamshiral.

The questing finger tapped the dimple in his chin, and Fen murmured, "Solas, _vhenan_ , wake up."

"Mmmh."

"I have dessert. Berry and cream pie."

"Mmrph."

"I also have frilly cakes."

One eye cracked open, "Frilly cakes?"

"Yes, without the powdered sugar." Fen leaned forward and rubbed her nose against Solas's. "Come help me hide the evidence from Cook."

"A worthy endeavor."

He stood up and stretched while she fetched an unused fork from the remains of dinner. Josephine and Vivienne still insisted she get a full service's worth of utensils, leaving her with what felt like twelve different forks, spoons, knives, and other accouterments that were never touched. A fork was a fork when it came to eating privately. Fen glanced up, and quirked her mouth into a grin when she saw Solas's leggings had fallen low on his hips, revealing the dimples at the base of his spine she loved. The grin quickly turned to a pout when he pulled the leggings back up into place. _Goodbye, back dimples._ She sorted through the silverware again, looking for one of the smaller forks instead of the one that was near the size of a shovel that she set aside.

 _"Vhenan?"_

"Hmm?"

"Were you wearing _that_ when you went to the kitchens and absconded with our dessert?"

Fen looked down at her breast band and leggings. " _Oh!_ ...Well… Keeper _did_ always scold me for wanting to not wear anything but smalls when I was overly warm, so this is improvement?"

He slapped a hand to his forehead while she smiled and fluttered her eyelashes. She didn't recognize all of the swear words Solas used, but she did know that 'infuriating woman' and 'be the death of me' were in there. The platter of frilly cakes rose from the table and waved at him invitingly, "Frilly cakes?"

"Thank you," He took the platter and settled into the settee that they had dragged to the fire earlier in the evening. "I will be wanting a bite of the pie, as well. Consider it my fee for putting up with your exhibitionism."

Small fork stabbed firmly into the middle of the berry and cream pie, Fen plonked down next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder and poking him in the side. "You know you love me, now eat your cake."


End file.
